


It's the New Republic, Lord Vader!

by volsung



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Family Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:25:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1622363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volsung/pseuds/volsung
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vader survives the end of ROTJ and agrees to put his Sith past behind him for the sake of Luke and Leia.<br/>How will he get used to living in this new Republic now that he has forgone his sense of purpose?</p>
<p>One-shot, AU, not EU compliant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's the New Republic, Lord Vader!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, this is just a short one-shot I wrote on tumblr. Figured I might as well share it here too!
> 
> It’s basically an AU of what could have happened had Vader survived at the end of ROTJ, and renounced his Sith ways for his children’s sake… It ignores the EU, and it’s really just a standalone – I don’t think I’m going to write anything else in this verse.  
> It’s also a bit fluffier than I’d originally planned, but I actually like it quite a bit.
> 
> And yes, the title is based on It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, but the plot has nothing to do with it at all. I just thought it was funny.

He awoke to the sound of his own hissing, regulated breaths, and tried to move his body. It was much too painful so he gave up after only a moment, but he couldn’t stop a grunt of pain from escaping him. His eyes were still closed so he forced them open, finding only the stark whiteness of a ceiling. He appeared to by lying down.

 

Something shifted near him and a familiar presence brushed his mind. _Luke._

“He’s awake,” his son’s voice said softly, and another voice from the other side of the room mumbled something unintelligible. Luke’s hand found his, and held on tightly. “You’re alright father. You’re in a medibay. We got off the Death Star safely.”

 

_Father._ The word warmed him. “You should have left me,” he grunted. It was painful to speak.

 

“I agree,” the other person in the room chimed in. He forced his head to the side and found Leia standing on the other side of his cot. Her arms were crossed.

 

“ _Leia!_ ” Luke hissed. “I couldn’t leave you, after what you did…”

 

“The Emperor,” Anakin whispered. Last he remembered, Palpatine had been torturing his son. The boy was sure to die, and that thought… the prospect of letting his child – _Padmé’s child_ – come to harm at the hands of his master, had been too much for him at last. He searched his own feelings and found the angry, dark presence of Vader to be muted somewhat. He’d just referred to himself as Anakin in his mind, and to his surprise that name no longer caused him so much discomfort.

 

And then they had fled from the tower to find a ship. The Death Star had only minutes left and the Rebels were at an advantage this time if they managed to get the shield down. He had begged his son to remove his mask, so he could look at him with his own eyes before he died, but Luke would have none of it. Anakin had lost consciousness once on board the shuttle and now here he was…

 

“How much time do I have left?” He asked Luke, slowly turning his head back towards him so he wouldn’t have to see Leia’s disapproving stare any longer.

 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Luke smiled. “You’re going to be fine.”

 

Anakin frowned. “But my suit…”

 

“Is finished.” Luke agreed. “We’re going to get you help. Treatment you should have gotten decades ago. And you _are_ going to be alright.”

 

Anakin was speechless, but Leia was the one to actually voice any disagreement. “He still might not survive surgery.” She didn’t have the gall to sound hopeful though, and in any case Anakin agreed with her. “Even if you do,” she stared down hard at him, “don’t think what you did for Luke changes anything.” She turned on her heel and sauntered off calmly, always dignified.

 

“She’ll come around,” Luke said confidently. He sat back down and gathered both Anakin’s hands in his own now. “I know it’s surely painful for you, but getting you out of that suit is an option we must consider. Leia… doesn’t quite agree with me, but I know deep down she’s also grateful for what you’ve done. We talked it over and…” He took a deep breath. “Nobody’s going to put you on trial if you step down. With Emperor Palpatine’s death, you’re essentially the new Emperor. But if you –“

 

Anakin interrupted him. “I’m not fit to be the Emperor. That has never been my goal.” He nodded. “I… will ‘step down’ if it means I can be your father.” He ignored Luke’s teary-eyed look, and hastily added; “Leia can be Empress for all I care.”

 

At that, Luke’s soft smile turned into a crooked grin, like he was trying not to laugh. “We’ll see.” He said vaguely, patting Anakin’s arm as he stood. “Get some rest.” Luke’s hand settled softly on top of Anakin’s smooth helmet and he fell back into a peaceful slumber.

.

.

.

.

The next several months were gruelling: a mix of visits from Luke (during which he gave only the bare minimum of information about what was going on in the galaxy, stating that he didn’t want to add any stress or worries to Anakin’s already long list of troubles), surgery, and bi-weekly sessions of physical therapy. Anakin lost count of how many surgical droids he destroyed out of frustration, but Luke didn’t seem to blame him. He was… glad, for his son’s presence in any case. It made the whole process somewhat more tolerable.

 

He couldn’t help but feel undeserving of all this treatment. His accident on Mustafar had not only been a defining moment in his life, it was also the source of much hatred and anger; emotions he had used to fuel his actions, and his tenuous will to live, for over two decades. Now that his suit was gone, it felt like most of his purpose had as well. Could he really return to being Anakin Skywalker after living for so long as a shade, an embodiment of wrath, the greatest weapon of the Empire?

 

He attempted to protest many times. _My suit could be repaired! There is no sense in trying to re-acclimatise me, and it would certainly be less expensive._ Or even, _this mask is my face now! I have no claim to Anakin Skywalker’s life anymore._ But Luke always saw right though him.

 

Indeed, his son was maddeningly supportive of him. And in the end Anakin begrudgingly accepted his help.

.

.

.

.

Almost a year after the battle of Endor found Anakin Skywalker on board a shuttle with his son, descending into Coruscant’s atmosphere.

 

The triangular jawed mask was no more, and neither was the breathing mechanism, but he was no less striking.

 

Luke sat in the pilot’s seat, performing the landing operation, whilst Anakin preferred to stand. He was observing his son’s piloting and it was clear the boy had inherited his skill.

 

Once they landed he followed his son onto the platform and stopped in his tracks, scowling. Nary a squadron of troops in sight to receive them. What sort of cataclysm had befallen the galaxy? He’d been away for a year, for star’s sake, and nobody could be bothered to send a platoon to greet him?

 

Sensing his thoughts, Luke touched his arm gently. “Your recuperation wasn’t made public,” he explained. “Come on, we’re already late to meet Leia.” And they made their way towards the Imperial Palace, Luke hurrying to match his long strides. He was not quite as tall as he had been with the old suit, but still much more imposing than his son. Both his children had obviously gotten their slender frame from Padmé.

 

His new mechanical limbs were not as heavy as the ones Palpatine had forced on him. It felt as though he had been living in a world with heavier gravity for twenty years, and now everything was light and easy. He felt powerful. And the prospect of returning to civilization, going back to work, was pleasing.

 

They finally made it to the Palace, and he found it bustling with life.

 

Where there had once been statues of Palpatine and drapes boring the Imperial colours and emblem, now there were beautiful paintings of different planets, and the scheme was blue and white, with what closely resembled the symbol for the old Republic… But it was not quite the same. It was new.

 

He was disoriented for several moments, but Luke led him to a lift. It cleared in moments and once they were alone, he turned to frown at his son.

 

“Welcome to the New Republic,” Luke said with a cheeky smile.

 

Anakin clenched his fists and was about to tell his son exactly what he thought of this change, but then the lift doors opened with a _ping_ and they stepped out into a sumptuous lounge area. There was an open door leading to a great office and Leia was already seated in there speaking with some other beings dressed as senators. Anakin’s temper levels flared. All this was far too evocative of his old life for his liking. He had _not_ sacrificed so much and worked and suffered so hard for twenty years to return to the way things had been! Had he defeated the Jedi Order for nothing? Had Padmé died for nothing?

 

Before he realised it, he was standing right in front of his daughter’s desk, thumbs tucked into his belt, scowling at her from his great height. She remained calmly seated, aiming a cold stare up at him.

 

“Vader,” she remarked. “You are looking well.” At her words the other senators stood and backed away.

 

“Forgive me, Senator Organa,” one of them, a rodian, stammered. “Did you just call this man Vader?”

 

With a growl, Anakin turned to the foolish group of wide-eyed senators. “If you value your lives, you will leave us _right now_.” He pointed a black-gloved finger at them for good measure and they lost no time, almost tripping all over each other to get to the lift at the far end of the next room.

 

“Father,” Luke sighed, coming closer and shaking his head. “That was hardly necessary.”

 

Anakin ignored him. “What is going on here?” he demanded, seething. “You never told me the Republic had been reinstated!”

 

“Well honestly I don’t know what you were expecting,” Leia replied hotly, moving around her desk to stand in front of the former Sith Lord. “Did you think we’d keep the throne? Keep it warm for you, perhaps?”

 

Anakin scoffed. “I’d like nothing more than to crush Palpatine’s precious _throne_ into dust.”

 

“Well too late – I’ve already seen to that.” Leia retorted. Their faces were inches from each other’s now, and beside them Luke actually had the nerve to chuckle.

 

“Seems like you two are going to get along after all…” He was grinning at them both, and Leia turned away with a huff. “You agreed to stand down,” Luke reminded him.

 

“You should learn to never trust a Sith’s word.” Anakin replied softly.

 

His son’s expression faltered slightly, and he and Leia shared a look.

 

“So then, what?” Leia asked. “What are you going to do? Overthrow the new senate? Start strangling people left and right if they disagree? You’re not in charge anymore Vader. I’ve trusted Luke’s judgement so far, but don’t try my patience.”

 

Anakin had several different scathing retorts ready, but they died on his tongue when Luke stepped in between them. “Leia please.” He placed his hand in the centre of Anakin’s chest. “He has a real name. Would you please use it?”

 

Leia nodded once. “Fine.” She sounded anything but fine.

 

However, Luke smiled. “Tell her what you promised me.” He said to Anakin then, and there was no need to specify what he meant. Anakin had only made one significant promise in recent memory.

 

He glanced at a now avidly interested Leia, and repeated his words from near a year ago. “I will step down as Supreme Commander of the Imperial Navy for your sakes. For Luke, and for you.” He avoided his daughter’s gaze then, for she reminded him too much of another shrewd, brown-eyed politician he had once known. “I will renounce the ways of the Sith if I can simply be your father.”

 

“You’ll never be my father.” Leia said calmly. He looked back down at her indignantly, but her eyes were a bit softer now. “However, I will accept a truce. As long as you _behave_.”

 

“I resent your tone.” Anakin growled. He would not be scolded like a child by his own daughter!

 

Leia smirked at him. “And I resent your existence. You’ll just have to live with that.” She turned to Luke. “I’ll see you later at dinner. Good afternoon.” She kissed him softly on the check and gave a curt nod to Anakin before leaving.

 

They stood in silence for a long moment after she had disappeared into the lift, and Luke whistled.

 

“That went about as well as I’d expected.”

 

Anakin’s lip curled and he aimed a sullen stare at his son. To his dismay, Luke’s smile only grew larger. “I can’t wait to introduce you to Han.” Luke didn’t linger after that, perhaps aware he was toeing some sort of line now, and sat down. He produced a datapad from somewhere within his Jedi robes and immediately became very invested in its contents.

 

Jaw twitching, not knowing what to do with himself, Anakin went to stand by the window and looked out at what had previously been Imperial City. His hands were tightly clasped behind his back and he forced his mind to clear. He did not want to dwell on his truly exhausting situation right now. This was already proving to be a trying day, and it was barely past noon.

.

.

.

.

Months went by and, as it turned out, Anakin was allowed to keep his position in the military. Only, he wasn’t so much on the front lines these days. Honestly there wasn’t as much for the army to _do_ anymore. His workload amounted to lots of paperwork mostly, as the transition from Empire to New Republic was far from complete.

 

However the part of his new job he enjoyed the most – though he’d never say so out loud – was convincing high-up former Imperial officers to cede their power and conform to the Republic. Darth Vader, for all he had been feared throughout the Imperial Navy, had also been highly respected by his troops.

 

At first, most military officials were unconvinced of his identity, but a squeeze of the Force to one’s oesophagus had a way of changing one’s mind. As much as he wanted to snap the necks of the more stubborn admirals however, he didn’t actually kill anybody. In his mind’s eye he could already see Luke and Leia’s identical expressions of disapproval, and it kept him anchored to the present, prevented him from slipping back into the comfortable embrace of the Dark Side. His relationship with Leia seemed already tarnished beyond repair, but that was no reason to alienate her any further.

 

As per her unspoken request, he never called her anything but ‘Leia’, though he still used ‘son’ around Luke if they were alone. Luke’s presence would brighten through their bond whenever he called him that.

 

But keeping his children happy was one of his lesser worries, right underneath managing not to kill anyone out of anger, and getting used to his new body. Eating and breathing on his own were still new and bizarre feelings, not at all like he’d remembered.

 

But no, the thing – or rather, person – occupying the number one spot on his list of quandaries, was one Captain Han Solo, currently seated across from him at the table. The Corellian, once a two-bit smuggler, now an esteemed general in his navy, had been a thorn in his side since his rescue of Leia on the first Death Star. To make matters worse, he was constantly courting his daughter.

 

And for reasons Anakin could not fathom, Leia did not discourage his advances. She was a princess, adopted certainly, but the trueborn daughter of a _queen_ , and in Anakin’s opinion she couldn’t do much worse than _Han kriffing Solo_ …

 

Just as these thoughts crossed his mind, Leia returned from the kitchen and took a seat next to the ex-smuggler, her hand settling on the back of his neck, and the two shared such a disgustingly warm smile that Anakin couldn’t hide his scowl. A moment later the Corellian raised his glass to take a drink, only to have it shatter before it could even reach his lips. Han spluttered, blinking through the brandy now dripping all over his face. “What in all hells -?”

 

Anakin struggled against a satisfied smile, but Leia caught his eye at once. Her lips thinned. She was no doubt wondering whether or not it would be worth the trouble to reprimand him, but her opportunity came and went as Han started to laugh. “How many of these have I had?” He wiped himself off with a dishcloth.

 

“Here –“ Luke offered, standing up and sweeping the broken glass away using the Force.

 

“Luke.” He snapped before he could stop himself. “Do not use the Force for something so trivial.”

 

“You mean like you just did?” Leia piped up, and Anakin set his jaw. He had long recognised that his children had a way of teaming up against him quite effectively, and besides, Luke had made him promise today that this supper would go well. The previous three meals Luke had invited him to had been nothing short of disasters. One of them had ended with Leia kicking him out of her flat, throwing various objects at him, after he’d tried to get her to see his point of view; that she would certainly make a fine Empress if she would only use her cunning to reorganize the Republic. Her subjects would love her! But she’d obviously taken great affront to the idea. He’d stored the subject away in his mind for another time.

 

The next instance they had all been on Coruscant at the same time was for Luke and Leia’s birthday. That occasion Anakin didn’t like to dwell upon for too long. Suffice to say he had gotten reasonably drunk, and revealed some fairly saucy details about his former life he’d have rather kept private. Preferably until the universe collapsed in on itself.

 

And the last time, a mere two months ago, he hadn’t even lasted an hour. He’d walked into the kitchen to get beers for him and Luke, and caught Solo and Leia kissing. He didn’t actually remember what had happened next in the clearest of details, but it had involved Han gasping as the Force closed around his throat and Leia in angry tears. Luke had calmly asked him to leave and that had been that. Anakin had to admit he hadn’t been too proud of that evening once his murderous rage wilted away somewhat.

 

Back in the present though, Solo was now following Luke into the kitchen to put away the mess, leaving Anakin with his daughter. You could have cut through the tension with a practice lightsaber. Leia had her ‘dignified politician’ face on, so Anakin knew better than to goad her any further.

 

She looked him over for a few moments, and something glinted in her eyes, causing Anakin’s guts to squirm. Here it comes, he thought. They were about to have a row. Well bring it on. At least Luke was occupied, so they wouldn’t _technically_ be breaking their truce if he wasn’t aware…

 

“Han and I are getting married.”

 

Anakin almost died, from equal parts surprise and the hilarity of such a statement, but he didn’t let that change his facial expression. “I think not,” he snorted.

 

“Well you’re not invited,” Leia said idly. She took a sip of her wine. “Just thought you should know. Or rather, Luke wanted me to be the one to tell you before you found out somehow and decided to organize a hit on Han or something.”

 

“Excuse me,” Anakin snarled. “If I wanted that blasted pirate dead, I assure you I would do it myself! No daughter of mine is going to marry that unwashed excuse for a –“

 

“Whoa, whoa!” Solo chose that moment to come back from the kitchen with Luke in tow, or perhaps they had heard the shouting, Anakin couldn’t care less. “At least do it to my face if you’re gonna call me names, _your tyrannical-ness._ ”

 

“Very well!” Anakin spat back, but his gaze locked onto Luke and the expression he saw there gave him pause. He realised then that he was standing, and slowly sat back down. He could feel his face was still twisted in disdain, and he bit his lip in an attempt to calm himself. Had his children not been here, Solo would already be dead, he thought as he fumed. But then Luke reached out through their bond and all of a sudden common sense overcame his anger.

 

“Why don’t you sit down,” he said to Solo, somewhat more poisonously than could be considered decent, but the man obeyed. He and Leia were visibly startled. They had no way of knowing what had just transpired mentally between he and Luke, but of course they weren’t about to question it.

 

Solo poured himself a new glass of Corellian brandy and leant back in his seat. “Look, I know you don’t like me –“

 

“Whatever gave you that impression?”

 

Solo let out a puff of air but carried on as though uninterrupted. “You don’t like me and I don’t like you. And we all know you’ve been trying to pull us apart ever since you got here, okay – changing Leia’s schedule so she couldn’t meet me for dinner, that time you had your spies follow me to –“

 

“Get to the point, Solo.” Anakin interrupted again, his anger flaring again. He could see Luke fighting down a snigger in the corner of his eye.

 

“Look point is, we don’t care if we have your blessing or not. I’m going to marry your daughter. But you can either scowl and threaten me, not attend our wedding and probably never even meet your future grandchildren –“

 

“ _Grandchildren –?_ ” Anakin wheezed.

 

“– or you can be a man, shake my hand, and just let things be.” Solo finished, holding out his hand over the table.

 

Anakin felt a cold sweat in his back and he knew his jaw was twitching dangerously. The room was stifling all of a sudden, the very air affected by his internal debate. On one hand Solo would count this as a victory over him, but on the other… He had a fleeting vision of himself at Leia’s wedding, she was so beautiful and regal – and then he was holding his _grandchildren_ –

 

With a bitter taste in his mouth, he snatched Solo’s hand into his own and shook it once, all but ripping it out of its socket. Han winced, but nobody else seemed to notice, as Luke grinned, and Leia sat back with a satisfied smirk. Anakin finished off his beer, still annoyed but doing his best to appear nonchalant.

 

And there was a chime at the door.

 

Luke clapped both his hands together. “I almost forgot; we have a surprise guest! Wait here!” And he disappeared through the doorway to the sitting room. Leia and Han stared after him, but Anakin occupied himself with moodily ripping off the label on his bottle. _Great_ … as if he needed anybody else to get on his nerves today. He vaguely wondered whom Luke could have deemed appropriate to invite to this dinner. Nobody outside present company even called him Anakin anyway. Everybody in the galaxy still knew his as Lord Vader, and that was fine by him. He’d already been the near-victim to numerous assassination attempts since the Empire had fallen; he didn’t need any grudges from his old life to resurface on top of that!

 

He felt Luke return before he heard him, and his son appeared in the doorway. He wore a nervous smile. “You know I’ve been trying to reinstate the Jedi Order… Well I’ve been travelling recently, trying to get the word out, and I came across a certain ex-Jedi.”

 

Anakin stood up quickly, intrigued. The next moment he rushed forwards unintentionally, as a tall female togruta entered the room after his son. She was a grown woman now; her head-tails were much longer, but she had twin lightsabers on her belt and he would never forget her eyes for as long as he lived.

 

He barely had the time to say the first letter of her name before her fist collided with his face, sending him backwards into the wall. It gave way to his weight and the velocity of her attack, and he found himself sitting in a large hole, his face throbbing. It had been an impressive punch.

 

Luke rushed to his side with a shocked look upon his face. “Father!” He looked between him and their newest guest incredulously. “What…?”

 

Anakin pushed Luke’s hands away and got to his feet on his own. “How very pleasant to see you as well, Ahsoka. It’s been too long.”

 

Ahsoka rubbed her knuckles into her other palm, smirking. “When Luke told me his last name, I knew. But I never imagined you were still alive, _Skyguy_.”

 

Leia gave an undignified snort at that, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. “Who _are_ you?” She asked, laughing.

 

Ahsoka brushed some drywall from Anakin’s hair, ignoring his protesting growls. “His old Padawan,” she sighed, like it was a terrible burden for her.

 

“Well then!” Leia beamed. “You’re basically part of the family. Won’t you join us for supper?” Ahsoka stared hard at Anakin, and grinned. Turning away, she took a seat next to Leia. “I’d like that. Sorry for your wall, though.”

 

Leia waved a hand around airily. “I’m sure father will pay for it.”

 

Anakin stared at her, but she ignored him. She and Ahsoka started talking together at once, giving Anakin the sneaking suspicion that the newest member of the _Make Anakin Skywalker’s Life a Living Hell_ Club had just arrived.

 

He tried to hide his smile as he sat back down in his chair with his family.


End file.
